Fulfillment(61)
I swallowed dryly as I processed his words. In the hospital, I’d had a moment of concern of whether or not I’d be able to have sex again so soon after miscarrying, for fear of... well... just in fear. But sitting on the sofa at that very moment, looking at Bryce with eyes full of nothing but want, need, love, and worship, I knew that when the time came, I would not hesitate in making love to him again. How could I? Fuck, I wanted to now.
“How do you plan on making me pay then?” I whispered, as I leaned forward and kissed his lips.
He chuckled and broke free, walking over to the stone fireplace to switch it on.
“Well?” I asked again.
He didn’t answer, just made his way to the Blu-ray player and popped in a disc. I watched him smile as he sat down on the sofa next to me, then he gently took hold of my perfectly good foot and began to massage it.
“Nooo,” I giggled and cringed.
“Yes! We are sitting here and watching The Lord of the Rings, and you, my love, are going to have a foot rub.”
“I hate you,” I said, like I always did.
He looked over at me, and I sensed a slight bit of doubt on his face. I motioned my finger, telling him to come closer to me. He obliged and leaned in further so that our lips could touch.
“No, I don’t,” I whispered against his mouth before I kissed him.
***
Bryce and I watched LOTR: The Fellowship of the Rings before he carried me to the kitchen to watch him cook a kick-arse Beef Stroganoff. It amazed me. He didn’t even put paprika in it and yet it still teased my taste buds with its tasty awesomeness. What also amazed me was that I watched him cook the damn dish and it was so easy, yet it tasted heavenly.
I swore he added a secret ingredient.
He swore he didn’t.
I swore he was lying.
He swore that I was going to ‘pay’ again.
I swore I’d kick him with my cast.
He swore I wouldn’t.
I just swore.
***
After dinner, we watched LOTR: The Two Towers. I must’ve fallen asleep across Bryce’s lap, because the last thing my brain processed was the people of Rohan fleeing to Helm’s Deep.
The next thing my brain processed was being laid down in our bed.
“Shit, I fell asleep, sorry,” I said, feeling a bit groggy as I woke up.
“We are now even,” he assured me.
‘Yes, we are.” I smiled, remembering when he fell asleep while we were watching Lady and the Tramp during our trip to Uluru.
I felt his hands settle on the top of my waistband then, gently, he pulled down the loose yoga pants I was wearing, being extra careful when sliding them over my cast.
His eyes travelled up my legs to my underwear, which were still feminine and pretty. Broken leg, head concussion, heartbreaking miscarriage and subsequent bleeding—I still insisted on having nice underwear. This habit of mine could never be broken. I’d rather wear nothing than wear ‘Nanna-Knickers’.
I could tell Bryce, too, appreciated this habit of mine, because his sight lingered on the navy satin lace brief I was wearing.
Propping myself up on my arms, I watched him crawl up the bed to me, helping me sit up so that he could remove my t-shirt and expose my matching bra. I leaned back on my hands and smiled as he took me in.
“You might want to look away, Mr. Clark. Because that look on your face normally means one thing. And that one thing is not going to happen tonight.”
“Hunny, there are other things that can happen, starting with this.” He grabbed my face and kissed me softly, yet passionately, causing my arms which were supporting the upper part of my body to go weak; shake; and slowly collapse, lowering me to the bed.
His lips stayed attached to mine as I lay flat on my back, Bryce now laying by my side. I held him to me as his tongue gently brushed against mine, caressing it delicately over and over as he dragged his knuckle down the side of my cheek to under my chin.
I savoured his touch and our kiss, equally stroking, licking and nipping at his mouth. The sheer love, lust and connection we felt for each other was as ever present in our kiss as it had always been, and once again it reiterated that we were on the path of healing and would eventually be fine. It also conveyed that we needed each other more than ever.
He broke away from my mouth and pressed his lips into my forehead quite firmly. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled himself back. “I just want to hold you in my arms and be grateful that you are still here with me.”
“Of course I am still here,” I whispered back as my eyelids got heavy. “I’m not going anywhere.”
***
The following, morning Bryce had to leave for an appointment with Jessica. I asked him if he was okay and reiterated that if ever he felt he needed to talk, I would always be there for him, to listen, to advise, to share. He assured me that he would talk to me if he needed to and that the reason he was seeing Jessica was simply to get an update on Gareth. But I suspected our recent heartbreaking loss was going to be a topic of discussion, which kind of irritated me. It shouldn’t have, though, because Dr. Jessica Carrot-Top was his psychologist and had been for a long time; therefore, it shouldn’t bother me that he would talk to her and tell her things that he would not tell me.